


Tempest

by shobogan



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Character Study, Child Abuse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 16:15:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shobogan/pseuds/shobogan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That was when she took the name Angel. It was the first time she chose anything; the first time anything was simply, truly hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> Some dialogue taken from XMFC and New X-Men 118.

She doesn’t like to be called Salvadore. That was her father’s name – or the man who called himself her father.

_She’s not what you think, she’s not even yours!_

He cast her out, when she started mutating; started changing in ways he didn’t like, didn’t understand. 

Looking back, it was the best thing he ever did for her. 

_She’s a dirty infection you brought to my table! Get outta my house!_

She wonders about her little sister, sometimes; if her heart survived that house. She thinks, sometimes, that she should have gone back; wonders if she’s selfish, for staying away. He’d always said she was. Selfish and dirty and useless.

But that wasn’t true. She survived. 

She was alone, skin smoking and boiling as she stumbled through the forest, scrounging for shelter as the wind grabbed her hair and smacked her skin.

And then, when the sun rose, she had wings.

That was when she took the name Angel. It was the first time she chose anything; the first time anything was simply, truly hers.

Years later, it became her stage name. 

It wasn’t what she’d dreamed about, when she was a little girl, but it was a hell of a lot better than what he’d wanted for her.

_Dirty! You never should have grown up!_

She never felt ashamed for doing something she was good at. She’d always made ends meet any way she could, and she’d finally found something steady. So maybe she was being used; she usually was. 

Men had stared at her her whole life; at least she was getting paid for it now.

Then two guys waltzed into her club and offered her a dream.

_How would you like a job where you get to keep your clothes on?_

She should have slapped him for that. Or maybe showed him her _other_ power – the one she figured out when some guy didn’t stop following her around one night. 

But he was offering her a chance to make her name mean something. 

So she decided to fly.

The problem with flying is, you can always fall. 

For a few days – a few, shining moments – she thought she’d finally found her place in the world. She thought she might have a family again. 

_Oh, I didn’t know the circus was in town!_

Their taunts shouldn’t have hurt as much as they did. They shouldn’t have made her feel like a child again, exposed and ashamed. She shouldn’t have _hated_ them so much.

But she wasn’t alone, this time. 

_I’d much rather guys stare at me with my clothes off than the way these ones stare at me._

_At us._

Maybe she could have gotten through it, with them.

But then Shaw came, and everything was screams and gunfire and blood, and the most terrifying thing was that she didn’t _feel_ anything.

She was scared, sure. For herself, and her friends. But hundreds of people were dying and she couldn’t find it in herself to care.

Then she realised why.

_You want the mutants? They’re right through that door. Just let us normal people go._

They drew the line before she ever did.

They never cared. They were just using them. Nothing had changed.

Well, she was tired of it. She was tired of the whole world, and she wanted it to know why. No more shame, no more silence, no more settling.

_We don’t belong here. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of._

They didn’t understand. Maybe they will, someday.

She didn’t expect Darwin’s gambit. She didn’t expect him to die for her. 

Azazel teleported them before she could react, before she could _think_ , and she didn’t start sobbing until Shaw left her alone in the room she picked out. She cried until her throat was raw, until she could barely breathe. 

She could never go back. She as good as killed him. They were supposed to be family and she killed him.

She has a new family, now. One that can accept someone like her. 

_You never should have grown up!_

She’ll need a new name. She can’t be an Angel, not anymore.

It’s only after the paradigm has shifted all over again that she finds it.

_Will you still be Mystique?_

_Yeah. You’re not – ?_

_No. I...no. I just..._

_I get it. How about...Tempest?_


End file.
